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The Keep talk:Habitican Exploration and Research Organization (H.E.R.O.)/Challenge 1: Get Lost!
Challenge Submission Entries for Get Lost! (#1) Don't forget to sign your work with your Habitica name so I know who you are over on Habitica. Category: 500 word Get Lost! (exactly 500 words) I woke up one morning, did the necessary, and then went to do the same thing I do every morning: work on my webcomic. Somehow I couldn’t find my sketchbook. What had I done with it? Naturally, I went looking for it; it’s important to my fans, all five of them, and I didn’t want to let them down. I wandered around for some time, asking everyone I met if they’d seen my sketchbook. The good people of Habitica wanted to help but they had their own quests to follow. I stopped for a snack from the Snackless Monster and got scalded by the Laundromancer for my troubles. Neither the Golden nor Iron Knight was any help; they simply scolded me for not keeping track of it. The sludge from the Snail of Drudgery slowed me down but I struggled and eventually made it through. I decided to rest in the shadow of Mt. Habitica. It was comfortable in the shade and I dozed off. A few moments later I was awoken by my pet Desert Fox, Rommel. He kept nudging me: “Don’t lie in the shadow of the Shadow Wyrm!” But it was too late; I’d been spotted by Vice himself. “Now I’ve got you!” Vice spat. “You stayed up late playing games when you should have been getting a good night’s sleep!” He leaped forward, shadowy tentacles tempting me with every sort of distraction possible. We fought toe-to-toe for so long I lost track of time. As soon as I made any progress he’d come back at me with some new temptation. I was getting tired again, almost too tired to fight, and as the battle went on I found it harder and harder to avoid giving in. Then I remembered something: my handy pocket notebook and trusty pen. I pulled them out and searched for today’s plan. It wasn’t there; this notebook was from last week! I’d forgotten to take a new one! Now what? I thought about throwing it at Vice, hoping it might slow him down at least, but no, that wouldn’t work. I needed time to think, so I sat down and closed my eyes. Vice took note of my actions. “Ah, I’ve won!” He took his time, assuming I’d given up. That gave me the time I needed to go through my steps the previous day. He was almost upon me when I remembered. I stood up, turned to face him, and smiled. “Now I’ve got you!” I crowed. “My sketchbook is where I left it yesterday – RIGHT HERE!” I took two steps backward, moved a stone, picked up the sketchbook, and opened it to the last drawing I had done – of Vice himself when he was sleeping. Vice cried out as he dissipated into the shadows. Now that I had my sketchbook and my picture of Vice I could complete my latest page. My fans would be happy. When I returned home I created a new habit: go to bed on time! Habitica name: Dan O'Dea --Dan odea (talk) 01:13, October 4, 2016 (UTC) Get Lost! 500 Words Challenge Get Lost! The Meandering Mountains were wreathed in cloud when I set out. The sun peeked through in a few places, suggesting it might brighten up later. I slung my camera bag on my back and checked my pockets one last time. Map, check. Compass, check. Spare camera battery, check. We’d been hearing rumours in the Tavern for days of rare Gryphon sightings and I was looking forward to trying to capture these elusive creatures on film. I had everything I needed so I set off. It was a long climb. I started near the Southern end of the range and headed inwards, towards Mount Habitica. I stopped occasionally to take photos of things that interested me. I got some really good one of some wild Skeleton Bear Cubs running around and playing. As I climbed I sang old walking songs to myself. I tried to keep them quiet so that I didn’t disturb the beasts around me. I stopped and lunchtime and set my pack down. Sprawling out across a convenient patch of soft moss, I devoured my sandwiches and crisps. I thought about eating my chocolate but decided to save it for later. I’d hoped that the sun would have come through the clouds by then but it didn’t look like that was going to happen. After lunch I climbed up into the clouds. They were thick and wet and grey. Water droplets clung to my eyelashes and hair. I stayed on the path as best I could. I had been navigating by the far off peak of Mount Habitica but I couldn’t see it any more. I knew I was heading in the right direction though. I kept my camera close to hand. I was getting close to where the Gryphons had been seen. I found a flat rock and sat down to wait. I could hear eagles calling to each other but there were not distinctive Gryphon cries. I waited and waited until my fingers were frozen into claws around my camera. I had to give up. I sighed and packed my bag. I shook the feeling back into my fingers as I walked back down the path. It didn’t take long for the cloud to start thinning. I emerged into the sunlight and blinked. Once I could see again I realised that I’d made a crucial mistake. Nothing around me looked like anything I’d seen on the way up and I couldn’t see the glen where I’d left my trusty Desert Fox mount. I scrabbled in my pocket to retrieve my map. Looking at it, I realised that I must have wandered off the path on the way up and then chosen the wrong path to come back down. I was very far away from where I was meant to be. I could either walk back up and try to find the correct path back down or I could walk round. Walking up would have been quicker but there was too much risk of getting even more lost in the clouds. I dug around in my bag and set off, munching my chocolate as I went. 519 words FrenchKey Topic: Lose Someone Else You have been assigned the task of transporting a valuable batch of medicine for a small-ish town that is suffering an outbreak. It is relatively small, so have been transporting it in a backpack. One night on your travels, far from civilization, a thief makes off with the medicine in the middle of the night. You know the people of the town won’t be able to raise the funds for a new batch before people start dying. What do you do now? Do you try to get it back? How? Do you try to go to law enforcement of some kind? Do you try to track thieves yourself? If so, do you steal it back in secret, or fight them for it? Do you try to replace it yourself? Find a realistic-looking fake and try to sneak away before the people of the town realize it’s not real? Do you (at any point) give up and run away/try to avoid the people you were to deliver it to? DroseraRegia (talk) 12:53, October 14, 2016 (UTC)Drosera Challenge One: Lose Something, 250+ words Challenge 1, LOSE SOMETHING? >250 WORDS You don't realize that it's gone, at first. It's not like it hung around every day, playing around your feet--and if it used to do that, it was a long time ago. Back before the last crisis, or the one before that, or one of the new normals you've gotten used to. Things change, and you get used to some things being around less. When you do realize that it's gone, you don't even remember what you used to call it, back when it came running every time you paid it the slightest attention. Friends notice, after a while. They say it used to be around all the time, say how much they used to enjoy it. Some people who used to try to feed it help you look, but they can't call it back for you. They suggest places, new and old, to go looking. You think about looking, but there are so many other things you need to do now. Things change. This new normal doesn't seem to have room for something that unpredictable. Didn't it encourage you to do silly things, to waste time on things that weren't emergencies? One night, you can't sleep. The hundred and one things you have to do are so overwhelming that they seem meaningless. You look out the window at the full moon, and you remember a feeling. Not a place, not a time, just a little shred of emotion. You open the back door, look out at the moonlight, and find it sitting outside, waiting for you. It's smaller, and it doesn't run and jump the way it used to. It looks lost and starved, and its sound in the moonlight is the faintest of whimpers. You look at it for a long while, and it looks back at you. Then you open the door wider, and let it in. Feeding it, caring for it, is a lot more work than you remembered. Some days you don't want to, but it is so fragile, so utterly dependent on you that you make a little time, every day. Slowly, it gains back size. It rubs up against you when you feed it, stays beside you while you do each day's hundred and one tasks. After a long while, it starts to play again. One day, you catch yourself laughing. Friends notice it, and call it by different names. Your sense of humor. Your joie de vivre. Your smile. Now that you are caring for it, it will let the others feed it, too. No matter how much attention they give it, though, it is still yours. You know, no matter how much you neglected it in the past, that it will come only to you. It curls up at your feet as you work, and you realize...the new normal? The latest crisis? You can handle them all, as long as you keep it fed, beside you. 18:51, October 15, 2016 (UTC)Hope Erica (@HopeErica) Somewhere In The Metro...(Get Lost 500) I love a good book. That's been true for me ever since I was four. Where most kids carried around blankets, or toys, which later turned into dolls, or sports equipment, my security blanket and constant companions were books. Books never needed batteries, never had parts that would go missing, and there was an adventure between those covers. A place I could get lost in, time and again, visiting far off kingdoms at a moment's notice. I never expected a book to get me lost. We were coming back from a field trip, my classmates and I, and there were several train transfers to get home. We were heading home in the midst of a busy weekday, and all I needed to do was wait on one platform for the train to arrive, get on the right train, and then ride it to the next transfer point. Just follow everyone else, right? When I looked up, I didn't see anyone I knew. And a train was just leaving the station, carrying my classmates with it -- and not me. Now, Habit City isn't such a terrifying place. Until you realize you have no idea which way home is. I jumped on a train that said 'Downtown' figuring that I had a 50-50 chance of going in the right direction, but my self-doubt got a hold of me a little while later when the train stopped and the conductor said it was the end of the line. I'd definitely picked the wrong direction. I'm a little claustrophobic; having to deal with the enclosed station platform there set me into a worse panic than before. I really didn't know how to get home; I was just following everyone else, and I had only ever been on the trains with other people. And being fourteen, alone in a crowd, I just utterly fell apart. How would I ever get home? And worse still, the book I was reading was a library book, that was due the next day! Fortunately for me, Habit City's constables are good at finding lost things - and lost people. And believe me, I looked very, very lost. "Excuse me, son, are you lost?" the kindly gentleman asked me. He was tall, slim, and had a shock of reddish-tan hair with a streak of white through it. His officer's hat was slightly askew, as if a wind had played with it, but it suited him well. "I am." I said, sniffling. I wasn't in the best of frames of mind. "Well, tell me where you live, and maybe I can help." I gave him my address. "Can't say I know where that is." he said. "Can you tell me which train station you normally get on the train on?" Fortunately, that bit I knew, but only because I walked by it on my way to school every day. "Well, if you follow me, I can show you a map to get you where you want to go. You were going in the wrong direction, and all you need to do is retrace your steps by taking these three trains." I was dismayed that he couldn't come with me to make sure I got home, but in hindsight I imagine he had a section of platform to patrol and couldn't be a minder for a wayward kid all the way home. I made it home, and lived to tell the tale, of course, but ever since then I've had a bit of an aversion to taking the train.... (589 words, Taldin (talk) 20:07, October 18, 2016 (UTC)) Get Lost (500 Words) “You’re just like your father.” The tone in her voice was ice, one that I was all too familiar with. She had one hand on her hip and the other on her forehead, a stance of exasperation if there ever was one. My mother had a special way of making any sentence work to her advantage. It could bite worse than a rabid dog, or it made you feel like you were on cloud nine. Unfortunately for me, I felt like my ego was being mauled by a tiger. A flash of red brightened my face. I opened my mouth to argue, but was halted by a literal hand to the face. “Just… just nevermind. Go to your room. I need to clean up this mess.” The mess she was referring to surrounded us: couch cushions were ripped open, their stuffing flung into the far corners of the room like anti-social dust bunnies; furniture was toppled and gouged with razor-sharp claws; even the walls hadn’t avoided damage. Her hands lit up the room as she started to re-organize the once comfortable cottage. Furniture righted itself as she snapped her fingers like a medieval Mary Poppins. The gift of the family was in her: my mother had exceled as a mage in days of old, in a party that she had met my father in. Now, instead of fighting demons and monsters, my mom was cleaning up after me and my unfortunate adventures. To top it all, I had no abilities, and hadn’t discovered any in the woods, either. I wanted to explain what had happened. But what could I say? That I had been wandering too far into the woods despite her warnings not too, getting more and more lost the further I delved? The memory of it was vivid. My heart raced as it had in the woods. Trees were so thick with leaves, the sky had been swallowed whole by their mass until only my torch lit the way. Every twist and turn led me deeper into the heart of the woods that my mother warned me to avoid. There’s something lurking in those woods, her warning played in my head and quickened my breath. When I stopped to gather my senses, to turn around and head back, a panic settled over me. Gradually at first, then more as the thought began to sink in: which way did I come from? I had passed few landmarks. The trees blended together. I tried to retrace my steps, but found myself literally walking in circles, back to where I began when I wanted to return home. “Don’t panic,” I whispered, “you’re a Habitican, and you can find your way out of this.” Even though I said the words, doubt loomed over me. What if I never found the exit? What if I was lost… forever? A noise burst from directly behind me, causing me to jump at least ten feet into the air. I spun around, my eyes growing wide. Sweetenedpoison (talk) 20:46, October 24, 2016 (UTC)